The Past
by Another Writer Who Loves
Summary: Before Sherlock and Mycroft there was Elizabeth, the mother of the two, and her journey to fight against her families expectations as well as falling in love with the man who would be her childrens father and attempting to keep her own sanity.


"Elizabeth! Elizabeth get back here!" she heard her mother cry out to her.

Clutching the fifty note pound in her hand tightly Elizabeth turned the corner sharply, almost running over the maids in the process.

She continued to run and ignore the calls behind her as she finally reached the gardens. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the gate. Almost out.

A hand grabbed her hair and pulled her back as she gave a yelp. A married pair that worked at the house glared at her as the husband held her back.

A quick glance to the wife standing next to her. Smudged lipstick, a fading bite mark not completely hidden by her collar. A quick sniff of the air confirmed the scent of two men's deodorant.

"Your wife is cheating on you!" she said triumphantly. The man sputtered and his grip loosened enough for her to slip off and continue to run towards the gate.

She didn't even pause as she reached the gates; she merely turned herself to the side for her thin body to slip through the bars.

Grinning widely she quickened her run towards the city.

* * *

Elizabeth sighed in pleasure as she sat in the cafe and quickly ordered a tea and snack. As she waited for her order her fingers curled around the knife boredly as she watched the people walk by.

A woman with a sullen face walked by whose hands were pressed against her lower stomach. No ring on her finger and looking pale and panicked. A glance at her feet showed swollen ankles. Pregnant with no husband.

A man who continued to walk while subconsciously holding his hand out and tightening his grip on nothing. No hint of a previous wound or limp. Perhaps used to walking with an umbrella.

Another man pale and shaking. Yellowing of the teeth and tips of his fingers. He gave a hacking cough into a stained handkerchief. He had recently quit smoking and was experiencing withdrawal symptoms.

Her order had arrived. She had told her waitress to surprise her with any order and she had come with a plate filled with éclairs. A cup of tea with milk and sugar on the side. She quickly made the tea to her liking and took a deep and long swallow.

"That was quite the escape." a familiar voice said. Without putting her tea down she opened one eye to see her uncle Max staring at her. Knowing she wouldn't extend him the invitation he sat on his own in the chair across from her. "You made your mother upset again."

Elizabeth didn't bother to try to hide her snort as she took another gulp of her tea.

"I know that my sister isn't exactly the best mother." Max said slowly. "But she is your mother nonetheless."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "You've been smelling the country air too much; it's poisoned your brain."

A smile was starting to form on her uncle's face. "How did you know I was in the country, I didn't tell anyone."

She sighed. "There is a hint of dirt still under your nails, you love to garden however it wouldn't be right for you to kneel in the dirt like a servant so you have to hold yourself back. At least until you go to your country house where it wouldn't matter because it is far from people." Her eyes moved from his nails to his clothes. "There are a few strands of hay still stuck to your clothes. You've been in the company of horses. Could be that you simply went to the track to look at the horses you've donated but no. The inside of your hand has a light rope burn, from holding onto a horses rein, you've been riding them." She then glanced at his shoes underneath the table. "Not to mention that you have a thin layer of mud covering your heel, the sides, and the tip of the shoes. All of this leading up to that you were in the country and just returned recently, so recently in fact that you didn't have time to change clothes before my...mother called on you. Am I wrong?"

Max looked slightly impressed. "Yes, right about everything."

"As usual." Elizabeth said smugly. She picked up one of the éclairs and bit into it. The cream fell onto her fingers which she licked away as she finished.

Now her uncle looked slightly disgusted. "That is disgusting."

She shrugged.

"How did you do that?" he asked her instead. "How did you know all of that by simply looked at me?"

"I didn't just look at you. I observed." she corrected. "After that it's always a bit obvious."

"Not to me." Max said glancing down at his clothes. "So you can tell where a person was from their clothes?"

"I can tell so much more." Elizabeth said rolling her eyes. "When I look at someone I can tell almost everything."

"Prove it." her uncle challenged. He glanced to the side where a woman sat at a table reading a book. "Observe her and tell me what you get."

Elizabeth sighed and looked at the woman quietly for a few moments before turning back to her tea.

"She has self-esteem problems, obvious by the fact that she makes sure her bag is covering her stomach and continues to pull down her skirt and sleeves. Although she has a book she has also been on the same page for over an hour. She glances at her watch and then at her ring finger before smiling lightly. She's waiting for a boyfriend or a lover and she expects him to propose to her. She works as a teacher; one of the lower grades, the side of her hand is covered in ink as well as a hint of paint. Could be an artist however her nails are long and nothing underneath them. An artist wouldn't have long nails because they are constantly using their hands and would have had dried paint, smudges, something under the nails. Another point to the teacher is the way she is sitting. Used to being behind the desk she sits close to the table; the easier to grade papers, with her legs unfolded because of the lack of room to cross them. She is the youngest of children who were rougher than her, this you can tell from the way she hunches her shoulders forward and up in an attempt to defend herself. It was not bullying because although she defends herself she makes no attempt to hide herself as a victim would."

Elizabeth yawned then. "If you're going to make me do this at least pick a challenge for me."

"That's quite a talent that you have there for a fifteen year old girl." Max said. "Some people would kill to have those abilities."

She snorted then as she twirled the knife in between her fingers. "This isn't taught, no one showed me how to do this, I learned on my own. I was born with it."

"What is it that you want the most?" her uncle asked.

"The most?" Elizabeth said raising an eyebrow. "I want knowledge. More knowledge means more power."

"What kind of power?" he asked smoothly.

"Over people." Elizabeth said. She suddenly realized what she was saying and to whom. "Why do you want to know?" she demanded narrowing her eyes.

Max held his hands up in innocence. "I'm just an uncle talking to his niece, I have no other motives."

"Liar." Elizabeth said softly her eyes flying over his face, hands, and body. "You are tapping your foot on the ground; this means that you are nervous. Your left eye lid is twitching; agitated. You're pressing your hands together on the table in order to hide the fact that they are shaking. What do you want?"

"I want to teach you." Max finally said. "I want to teach you everything that I know."

Elizabeth snorted. "I don't need anything that you know. I doubt that you can teach me anything that I need to know."

"Let me speak." he said. "It's true that I can't teach you how to read and know a person, you showed that you can do this all on your own very simply, but I can teach you how to manipulate a person."

Elizabeth was silent now, listening to her uncle.

"Manipulation is an important part of life, especially when you have a gift like yours." Max continued. "To be able to read the person is wonderful, but to be able to manipulate the person to do as you wish. That is a different power all together."

"And what do you want in return?" Elizabeth asked. "Me spying and manipulating some of your business opponents?"

"Nothing of the sort." Max said shaking his head. "I just wish to pass on my knowledge of this so someone of my blood before I die."

"And…you choose me?"

Max nodded.

"Why?"

"Because you have the mind and the abilities to be better than I ever was." Max said. "Because I don't have children, I only have two nieces and between you and your sister I would much prefer you."

"So the only reason you pick me is because I am the only one you prefer and no other reason." Elizabeth said.

"Well…when you wish to word it like that, then yes." Max confessed.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "And here I was feeling slightly special." she said sarcasm lacing her words.

"If you do choose to learn from me." Max continued. "You are going to have to do everything as I say when I say it. And this includes a lot more than simply manipulation."

"Such as?" Elizabeth said waving her hand.

"The way you look, the way you dress, and the way you act." he said. "You're going to have to change all of that."

"What's wrong with the way I look, dress, and act?" Elizabeth demanded.

"You don't look like a lady." he said.

"Why the hell would I want to look like a lady?" she hissed.

"Psychological manipulation." Max said. "Look at yourself or at least try to see yourself from an outsider persons point of view."

Elizabeth sighed and glanced down at herself.

She knew that her hair was tangled; she hadn't bothered to brush it after she had awoken, and matted. Her clothes were torn, ripped, and stained with dirt. The same went to her skin, stained with dirt and who knew what else. When she brought her hand to her face to scratch her cheek dust fell onto the table. Her nails were all broken, chipped, and different lengths.

All in all she looked the exact opposite of what her mother wanted her to look like. Just the way she wanted it.

"I don't see a problem." she told her uncle.

"Well I do." Max said. "Part of manipulation is getting close to a person in order to do so. No one of importance or whom you want to play with will want you to get close to them looking like that."

Elizabeth eyes flashed. "A lady. You want to make me a lady."

Max nodded as he smiled.

"My mother sent you didn't she?" she hissed. "In an attempt to win me over she sent you to try to remake me."

The smile fell from his face. "No." he quickly said. "After you ran away she ranted and raved, what I'm not going to say, and then she went to have a drink in the sitting room but I came here on my own accord. Please believe me when I tell you that this is all me and I truly do want to teach you."

"By remaking me into something that I'm not." Elizabeth said. "Tell me is my arranged marriage ready yet?"

"Your mother persists in finding you a husband and then having the two of you marry." Max said. "But I'm trying to talk her out of it."

"Good luck." Elizabeth said. "She is as stubborn as anything."

"And you get that from her." Max pointed out. "What do you say?"

Elizabeths eyes narrowed. "I have no desire to change myself regardless of what I can get from you."

Max reached over and placed his hand on hers. "Just learn then. Listen to what I can teach you and decide for yourself whether or not you wish to do it. I'll teach you how to be a lady on the surface however hidden behind your mask is a fighter who in a moment's notice will be ready to cut someone down regardless of the situation is. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do; the choice is all up to you."

He then stood and bowed his head towards her. "Can I count that you will give me your answer the latest tomorrow morning?"

Elizabeth slowly nodded her head.

"And one more thing." he added. "Should you decide to listen to me attempting to teach you how to be a lady then it would stop your mother from constantly harassing you."

Elizabeth froze for a moment before she smirked at her uncle. "That's manipulation isn't it?"

"Finding out someone's weak spots and exploiting them." Max confirmed. "One of the more basic ways of manipulation." he nodded to her once more before turning and walking away.

Elizabeth glanced at her nails; chipped, bitten down to the very end that she could, dirt underneath them, all different lengths, and sighed.

**I don't own Sherlock.**

**This is my first Sherlock fanfic. I'm kinda excited.**


End file.
